Blood kept spilling from Dis's eyes.
An immense pressure bore relentlessly down on his soul, as though countless invisible hands were forcing you down, making you lower your head, submit, and kneel in worship.
Yet Dis still stood firm. A mountain could be leveled, but it could never learn to bow.
Still, no one knew what would happen if this went on too long.
Fortunately, the God of Order did not seem to feel challenged, nor did He deliberately make things difficult. He turned away of His own accord, ending this brief exchange of gazes.
Old Hoffen immediately stepped forward and asked with concern, "How are you? Are you all right?"
Dis shook his head and raised a hand, indicating that he was fine.
Old Hoffen did not know whether to laugh or cry. "Honestly, you weren't this battered after going in and out of the Order Temple."
That was true. All the harm those many Elders in the temple had inflicted on Dis put together fell far short of a single glance the God of Order had cast across the barrier of an Epoch.
Dis said, "How could they possibly compare to Him?"
Refusing to submit was one thing, but he still had to acknowledge what deserved acknowledgment. Before Him, Dis experienced what it meant to be insignificant, a feeling he had long since forgotten in his youth.
Back then, even if he encountered someone stronger than himself, he did not care. He was confident he would catch up with and surpass them before long. But with the one before him, he felt that doing so anytime soon would be difficult. Catching up with Him would take a very, very long time.
"Yes, yes, there's no comparison, no comparison. Let me use a Healing Art Method on you."
"No